


Oh, Brother

by OhFlanagan



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhFlanagan/pseuds/OhFlanagan
Summary: Arthur turned his horse to face John.“You got some explainin’ to do, boy. You coulda gotten us caught, or killed, hell she said your name, if that gets back to Blackwater, if any of those passengers heard of you before, we’re gonna have Pinkertons on us again. You better have a good goddamn explanation for why you’d put all of our necks on the line for a girl, especially when you’ve already got a fine woman waiting back at camp for you.”John breathed in, trying to work out how to explain himself. So he said it as simply as he could.“Arthur, this is my sister.”John has a little sister who he thought died years ago. Until one day they're robbing a train and she just so happens to be a passenger.And as much as Arthur tries to deny it, John's little sister has him feeling like a fool in love all over again.





	1. Louisa

Arthur didn’t like to show off, but he couldn’t deny it was satisfying seeing the look on Sean’s face after he shot the bottle. Being raised by outlaws wasn’t exactly the best upbringing a young man could ask for, but it had made him a damn good shot. Or at least a better shot than Sean.

But the surprised expression disappeared after about two seconds and Sean was back to talking a mile a minute in that thick accent of his.

“Let me come on the raid with yous,” he asked.

“Raid?” Arthur replied. He wasn’t sure how Sean had heard about John’s train job, and he definitely wasn’t sure it was a good idea to have Sean come along. After all the boy couldn’t even shoot a bottle from ten feet away. 

“Don’t be playing coy with me, son, it’s unbecoming. That bloody train you and him has set up. What you’re doing out here, you’re going to need guns, you’re going to need men.”

“Oh, that. So Marston told you? It ain’t a big show, I need calmness. If I take you I might as well bring Micah along.”

Okay that may have been a bit harsh, Sean was an idiot at times, but compared to Micah he was a god damn saint.

“Compare me to that oily turn again, you’re a dead man.” 

Arthur laughed, “fair enough,” he replied. It was nice having Sean back, having someone who saw Micah the same way he did. 

“Anyway Arthur, what’s your problem with me? In fact, don’t tell me, I already know. You’re threatened by me.”

“Threatened by you?” Arthur replied, humouring the young Irishman as he started to walk around the wagon, checking for anything that might affect their heist that night.

“Yeah, my youthful vigour, it intimidates ya.”

“Does it?”

“It’s a story as old as the hills. The changing of the guard, the fading of the light. You’re toast, old man.”

“Okay… and what are you?”

“I’m the future, in all its glory?”

“Yeah, well, good luck,” if the future meant men like Sean pulled off jobs like the one they were doing tonight while Arthur sat back at camp eating stew, drinking whiskey, and reading a good book, then Arthur was all for Sean being the future, “good luck and shut up, I wanna get some rest before nightfall.”

Arthur, satisfied that the oil wagon was free of any leaks and the wheels weren’t damaged and the horses were fit enough to pull it and three, or four now, men to the train tracks, sat himself down, resting against the wagon. He closed his eyes, trying to catch a little sleep while he could. 

When he woke up a few hours later it was dark out, and starting to get colder. He looked over to see Sean was asleep as well, leaning against a rock a few feet away from him. He grabbed a stone from beside it and threw it at the kid, “wake up you lazy sod.”

As he stood up he heard footsteps approaching, John and Charles, right on time.

“What are you doing here, kid?” John asked.

“I’m coming, John. On the job.”

“I said you weren’t coming,” John replied.

“Yeah well, Arthur says I am, and it’s his party boys so come on.”

It wasn’t exactly true, Arthur had never said Sean could come, but seeing how pissed off John looked made it worth having Sean there. And they had to start letting the kid come on jobs like this one soon enough anyway. He was a part of the gang, after all, and excluding him helped no one. 

Arthur shrugged at John as Sean climbed up onto the wagon, “me and the big cheeses, love it,” Sean continued, “can’t wait to slit some bastards throat.” 

“You sure about this?” John asked. Arthur was a little surprised to see how quickly John had put aside his annoyance at Sean being there and Arthur’s approval superseding his own disapproval. Maybe the boy was finally growing up, maybe that year he had spent away from the gang had done some good after all. 

“No,” Arthur replied honestly, but they both knew at that point there was no getting rid of Sean, “are we ready?” Arthur asked. 

“Yeah, train’s due through tonight,” John replied. 

“Alright then, it’s on,” he said as he walked towards the other side of the wagon, “Charles?”

“I’m ready,” Charles replied. Of course Charles was ready, he was one of the most solid men the gang had. His presence was almost enough to neutralize Sean’s, the calm to the younger man’s chaos.

Arthur climbed up onto the wagon, “gentleman, let’s go earn some money,” he said, grabbing the reins. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up taking the lead on this job, it’s just how it happened. John was getting there, he had organized things well and the oil wagon was a good idea. But when it came to taking charge, Arthur still comfortably settled into the leadership role, and the rest of the men followed him dutifully. 

Arthur stayed fairly quiet on the ride out to the train tracks. He asked a couple of questions about the job, and was almost impressed by how well John seemed to know how everything was going to go down. He had picked a sensible spot for the wagon and seemed to know exactly how many guns they would be dealing with that night. But for most of the ride Arthur said nothing while Sean joked around about John’s scar and how old the other three men were becoming.

As they got closer Arthur started giving out the orders: “Charles, you deal with the engineer. John, secure the passenger car fast, take charitable donations and make sure everyone behaves. Little Mr. MacGuire, you focus on the baggage car, grab any valuables you can find.”

“Here’s good,” John cut in, “stop the wagon over the tracks. Remember these are innocent folks, we handle this right and no one needs to die here.”

The four men climbed down from the wagon, sending the horses away.

“Mr. Marson, Mr. Smith, Mr. MacGuire, get over there,” he said, pointing towards the trees, “when she slows, bord her.”

“And you?” Sean asked.

“I’m gonna make sure she slows.”

“It’s do or die with you,” Sean replied, “I like it.”

He could feel the train coming, “get moving,” he said, starting towards the wagon.

He climbed up onto the oil wagon, bandana on and gun in hand. Part of him truly did wish for a quieter life, but as he heard the train approaching he could feel his heart starting to beat a little faster. The adrenaline was starting to kick in, the little voice in the back of his head was reminding him that the train might not stop, and this could be it. 

Sean was right, this was do or die. And maybe a little part of him hoped the train wouldn’t slow down. It would be a memorable way to go, he could imagine Sean telling stories, years in the future, of Arthur Morgan, the idiot who got blown to pieces standing on an oil wagon facing an oncoming train.

He saw the light coming around the corner, then he heard the horn, and then the deafening squeal of metal on metal and the train slowed to a stop.

Charles was quick to take out the engineer and the rest of them got on with their jobs. Arthur went straight to the passenger car, climbing aboard in time to catch John firing a shot toward the ceiling, “everybody stay calm and nobody will get shot,” he yelled. 

A man at the front of the car tried to stand up and Arthur quickly hit him with his rifle, throwing him back into his seat. He wasn’t planning on killing any innocent men or women on the train, but he didn’t want to have to deal with any heroes either. 

“Go! Everything you’ve got! Money, Valuables,” John yelled, holding a sack out at an older couple. One by one the passengers threw their possessions into the bag, until John reached a couple nearer the back of the car.

“I ain’t got nothin,” the man said. 

A hero.

“You wanna have a little chat with Romeo and Juliet here?” John asked Arthur.

John carried on down into the next car while Arthur, not wasting a second for words, just hit the man with his gun. 

“Just give it to them, Thomas, please,” the woman beside him begged. 

The man quickly handed over his cash.

“Everything you’ve got, money, valuables,” John said, holding the bag out. 

Sean quickly appeared, asking if they needed any help, and Arthur sent him back to the baggage car. 

Everything was going well, the passengers weren’t putting up much of a fight, and there was no sign of the law.

They moved onto the third car. It was much more empty, just a few passengers. Arthur could see Sean through the window and was about to leave John to deal with the rest of the passengers and head over to the baggage car to help out.

And then he heard a voice, a soft, calm, voice, say three words that she should not have said.

“John? John Marston?”

And John froze. The look on his face was even more surprised that the look he’d had the day Abigail told him she was pregnant.

Arthur looked over at the girl. She had dark brown hair, almost black. Her eyes were dark brown, and the look on her face was familiar, although Arthur was sure he had never seen her before.

“Lou?” John replied.

They didn’t have time for whatever this was. Whoever this girl was, she wasn’t worth getting caught over. 

Arthur walked forward further into the car, “we don’t have time for this,” he said as he approached John.

John ignored him, “what are you doing here?” he asked the girl.

She looked just as stunned and confused as John did, her expression mirroring his, “I was planning to rob these folks but someone beat me to it,” she said, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Arthur said again, louder.

“Shut up Arthur,” John said.

“Don’t use my name,” Arthur replied. He hated when they did that, what was the point in the bandanas if they were just going to throw their names around for everyone to hear, “listen, ma’am, I don’t know how you two know each other, but this ain’t the time for reunions, so it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but it’s time to say goodbye.”

“She’s coming with us,” John said.

“No, she ain’t,” Arthur replied.

“Yes, she is.”

“Oh SHIT!” 

The three of them turned toward the baggage car at the same time, Sean was fighting a guard. Arthur raised his weapon, pushing past John and quickly taking out the guard.

As soon as that one was down two more appeared. Sean quickly crawled out of the doorway, pulling his own gun out and talking to himself, “get up ya little Irish shit, get up,” he said, running back towards Arthur and crouching behind some sacks.

Arthur took out one of the guards, then raised his gun, aiming upwards as another guard appeared on top of the baggage car. His finger began to squeeze on the trigger, but someone beat him to it, a bullet whipping past him and hitting the guard.

Arthur turned as the guard fell off the train. He expected to see John behind him, and for a split second he thought it was John. But it wasn’t, it was the girl.

John was right behind her, “stay there, watch him, keep cover,” Arthur said to him, pointing towards Sean, “I’m gonna see what’s in here.” 

Arthur walked into the baggage car, “I’m seeing double here,” he heard Sean complain from just outside.

“That gives ya twice the chance of hittin’ someone,” Arthur quipped as he started searching through the cabinets and baggage. 

“I’m gonna have a right lump on my head,” Sean said.

“Least you ain’t got a hole in it.”

There was some good stuff in there. A decent amount of jewelry, some money, along with a few less valuable things that Arthur grabbed as well, brandies and cigars, the sorts of things the boys back at camp would appreciate them bringing back. 

Arthur was just about done looting the car when he heard the girl talking again, “John, we got a problem,” she said, “two men on horses.”

Arthur walked towards the three of them. “You said two?” he asked her.

“Yeah, looks like just a pair,” she said, nodding towards the trees.

“Alright, in that case, we’re fightin’,” he said, spotting Charles walking towards them through the last passenger car, “Smith, get ready.”

Arthur crouched behind a crate. He didn’t like to fight alongside people he didn’t know, but he didn’t have much choice and the girl had managed to shoot down one guard already. He didn’t like the idea of her coming with them, and John definitely had some explaining to do, but it would have to wait.

“You men come off the train now, do you hear,” one of the men yelled up at them, “we said, you men come out now.”

“There’s only two of you, you fools,” Arthur yelled back, “we got a whole lot less to lose. Why don’t the two of you ride away, that way neither of you get killed.”

“There’s a few more of them turning up,” Sean said.

Arthur sighed, of course things could never be that easy, “me and my big mouth.” He looked at the men with him, and the girl beside John, “okay,” he said, gripping his gun, “let’s deal with them.”

And all hell broke loose and gunsmoke filled the air. 

There weren’t too many of them, but there shouldn’t have been any lawmen at all. Between the five of them they took them out quickly. Arthur noticed how well the girl could shoot, better than Sean, maybe even better than John. 

Once all the men were dead Arthur hopped off the train, calling his horse. They had to get out of there. He didn’t miss the fact that the girl stuck with them, hopping onto the back of John’s horse. 

The five of them rode into the night, heading southeast away from the train. Arthur kicked his horse, looking back every minute or so to check everyone was keeping up. They didn’t run into any more lawmen, and once he thought they had ridden a safe enough distance away he pulled on the reins of his horse, slipping into the cover of some trees.

“I think we lost ‘em,” John said.

“I think so,” Charles said.

Arthur turned his horse to face John.

“You got some explainin’ to do, boy. You coulda gotten us caught, or killed, hell she said your name, if that gets back to Blackwater, if any of those passengers heard of you before, we’re gonna have Pinkertons on us again. You better have a good goddamn explanation for why you’d put all of our necks on the line for a girl, especially when you’ve already got a fine woman waiting back at camp for you.”  
John breathed in, trying to work out how to explain himself. So he said it as simply as he could.

“Arthur, this is my sister.”


	2. Secrets

Once, back before John had left them for a year, back when Arthur still saw him as his little brother, John and Arthur had gone down to a saloon and had had far too much to drink.

It was a few weeks after Arthur had found Eliza and Isaac’s graves. He was still in mourning, and he still hadn’t told anyone. Hell, he barely told anyone they existed, let alone that they had died.

In fact, John was one of the only people Arthur had told about them, which meant occasionally when they were out alone together, John would ask how they were doing. And that night, in that shitty little saloon, after far too much whiskey, John made the mistake of asking. 

At first, Arthur lied, he said they were fine, same as always. But John knew him too well, and he just kept pushing, and eventually, Arthur broke down and told him everything. Told him about finding the graves, about finding who did it, about finding out it was all over $10. Arthur had done a lot of bad things in his life, but not doing right by Eliza and Isaac, not protecting them as he should have, was the thing he was most ashamed of. 

And that’s when John had decided to tell Arthur about his most shameful secret. Arthur already knew most of the details about John’s parents. His mother was a whore, died in childbirth, and his father was an alcoholic who had died when he was eight. After that he had been sent to an orphanage where he stayed for a couple of years before deciding to run away. After a couple of years on the streets, he had been caught stealing by some homesteaders, who had decided to hang him. Dutch had saved him from the hanging and the rest was history. 

What John had never told anyone, not even Dutch or Hosea, was that he had a little sister. Her name was Louisa, she was two years younger than him, and it was during her birth that their mother had died. John and Louisa were sent to the orphanage together after their father had died, and they survived it together for two years until John had decided he couldn’t do it anymore. So he left. He promised he would come back in a week or two, he just had to find some money, somewhere to stay, somewhere safe for the two of them. 

The thing is John didn’t want to go back just to tell Louisa that he was living on the streets. The orphanage was bad, but at least there she had food, which was more than John had. He spent a year trying to find somewhere that would be good enough for his baby sister, and after a year he realized there was nowhere better. So he went back, not sure of what his plan was, but knowing that he couldn’t leave her alone any longer.

And she was gone.

He asked around. A few of the kids there recognized him, and they remembered her, but no one knew where she went, and a few people were pretty certain she had died.

But there she was, right in front of them. And now John said it, Arthur could see how clearly related they were. The same dark hair, the same dark eyes, the same expression on their faces. 

“Sean, Charles, go back to camp,” Arthur said.

“I would be happy to, Arthur, but is there anyway Charles and I here could get our take from the train first?”

“Sean if you don’t get out of here right now you ain’t gettin' nothin' from that train now go!”

“Alright, alright, Englishman, don’t get yourself all worked up,” Sean said turning to Charles, “come on then big man, I guess we’ll see our money back at camp.”

Arthur waited until Sean and Charles had gone before speaking again.

“My name’s Arthur Morgan,” he said, finally addressing the girl, “it’s nice to meet you, Louisa.” She nodded at him but didn’t say a word. “I’m guessing you two have some things to catch up on, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, looking back at John, “I’ll see you both back at camp.”

He emphasized the both, and he knew John caught his meaning. Louisa had been a secret that John had only told Arthur about, but given she was alive, given she had been on that train, Dutch would want to meet her. 

“Of course,” John said, “thanks, Arthur.”

“That was some good shooting back there,” Arthur said to Louisa, “thanks for having our backs.”

“It was nothing,” she replied. He couldn’t quite believe how soft her voice was. Everything else about her was so similar to John, even down to the mannerisms, but her voice was the complete opposite of his rough, gravelly tone.

Arthur turned around and kicked his horse. He wanted to get back to camp quickly, he knew Sean would have already mentioned John’s sister by the time he got there, but he wanted to explain some stuff to Dutch himself so John wouldn’t get so completely bombarded by questions when he got back.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” he heard her ask John as he galloped away. 

Dutch was waiting for him as soon as he got back to Horseshoe Overlook.

“Arthur, would you care to explain to me what exactly is going on?” he asked, motioning for Arthur to join him in his tent.

Arthur sighed, he wasn’t sure how much information he should give Dutch, this wasn’t his story to tell. But if the situation was reversed, if Eliza and Isaac somehow showed up out of the blue and Arthur had to explain their sudden appearance to Dutch, he didn’t think he’d mind John doing the bulk of the explaining before he arrived. 

“John has a sister,” he said. 

“Mr. MacGuire mentioned that.”

“He told me about her once, a few years ago. I think I’m the only one he told. He thought she was dead.”

“How did she find him?”

“I don’t know, I got the impression she just happened to be there.”

“What was she doing on the train?”

“Said she was there to rob it. She must have been running with other gangs before, she can handle a gun. From what John’s told me before, they haven’t seen each other in at least ten years, since before you took John in. Who knows where she’s been between then and now. John thought she died at the orphanage.”

Dutch considered what Arthur was saying, “and John told you all this?”

“He mentioned her once before. Why do you ask?”

“Just surprised he never mentioned anything to me. Sometimes I forget how close you boys used to be.”

“We were brothers,” Arthur said.

“You still are, Arthur, you still are.”

“I don’t know about that, Dutch. Things change, people change.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how long he expected it to take for John and Louisa to get back. He knew they had things to discuss, but he also figured they both would need some rest and some food. After a couple of hours, he decided to get some sleep. By the time he woke up, the sun had risen and people were getting on with their day. 

First, he split the take from the night before, giving half to dutch and splitting the rest four ways, keeping John’s with him and giving Charles and Sean their shares.

Then he went to talk to Abigail. She had heard chatter around the camp about John having a sister and she was definitely not happy about being left in the dark.

“It ain’t for me to tell ya, Abigail, you’re just gonna have to wait for John to get back.”

“But he has a sister?”

“He has a sister.”

“A sister he never told no one about?”

Arthur nodded.

“That no good, ass of a man, I swear to god Arthur, he had a kid with me but he couldn’t find the time to tell me about his goddamn sister? Who does he think I am? Do I mean nothing to him? Jack has an aunt he never even knew about, how do I explain that to the boy?”

“Abigail, he thought she was dead, there was no point tellin' ya.”

“I am the mother of his child, Arthur Morgan, there is nothing that man should be keeping from me-”

“-Abigail-”

“-I mean, why wouldn’t he tell me? He told me about his whore mother and alcoholic father, but the sister? That just slipped his mind?-”

“-Abigail, stop-”

“-I mean, what else hasn’t he told me? How many other secret siblings does that man-”

“Abigail would you shut up,” Arthur finally snapped, “he thought she was dead, he thought she was dead and he blames himself, and stuff like that ain’t easy to talk about. It ain’t about you, it ain’t about Jack, this is just John’s shit. Now, this has been a big day for him, can you promise me you won’t yell at him when he gets back?”

She glared at him and walked away, no promises made but he hoped she wouldn’t go too hard on him when he got back.

-

Louisa wasn’t sure what her plan was when she’d boarded the train. She had fallen in with a gang south of Saint Denis. Since leaving the orphanage she had run with a lot of gangs. Some she had stuck with for a couple of years, others she hadn’t lasted more than a couple of weeks with. This gang was one of the two week ones. 

Louisa understood that murder was a part of outlaw life, but needlessly killing innocents wasn’t something that had ever sat right with her, and this gang did a lot of needless killing. So she grabbed her guns, grabbed her satchel, and hopped on the first train she saw. She was planning to pick their pockets and sneak away unnoticed into whatever town the train happened to be stopping at.

When the train came to a halt she knew something bad was going on, but she decided to just be quiet, keep to herself, give them a dollar if she had to, and let the robbery happen.

But then she saw the man’s eyes. It had been almost a decade and a half since she had last seen him, and she was shocked she recognized them, but those eyes were exactly as she remembered them.

And then the shooting started, then they were running away on horseback, then Arthur was introducing himself, and then it was just her and her big brother on a horse in the middle of nowhere. 

And part of her looked at John and saw the look in his eyes and she felt like it was fifteen years ago, back when they were as close as two siblings could be. And part of her felt like she was talking to a stranger.

“There’s a town nearby,” John said, “Valentine. I’m thinking you and I go share a drink there.”

“Okay,” she said.


	3. Carmody Dell

Louisa had been at the camp for two nights and she already had all the men wrapped up in her spell. Arthur would have almost found it funny if he wasn’t so embarrassed for them.

He watched from across the camp as she put her hand in her pocket. “Oh dear,” she said, and immediately Sean, Keiran, and Javier (he really thought Javier at least was above all this, but there he was) looked over.

“What is it, Miss. Marston,” Sean asked.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Sean, call me Louisa,” she replied.

“Sorry, Louisa.”

“I just love how my name sounds with that accent of yours,” she said, mimicking his Irish accent, “‘Louisa’, oh it sounds far better when you say it,” and Arthur could swear he saw Sean’s cheeks go a couple of shades redder.

Javier cleared his throat, “Louisa, what is it you need?” he asked, going back to the oh dear that had started the conversation in the first place.

“It would seem I’m all out of cigarettes,” she replied, ‘“and I would really kill for a smoke right now.”

The three men scrambled, digging into their pockets to grab their own packs of cigarettes. Keiran won the race, holding out a cigarette for her first. She accepted it, lighting a match against her boot and taking a drag, “thank you so much, Keiran,” she said, “now, as much as I appreciate all of your company,” she smiled at the three of them, “I think it’s time I retire to my tent.”

“Of course, good night Miss. Louisa,” Javier said.

It was a joke, the way they treated her. Grown men, outlaws, and they were acting like teenagers with a crush. Of course, she was pretty, very pretty, but so were Mary-Beth and Tilly and Karen, and the men managed to keep their dignity around those women.

Arthur lit a cigarette of his own, walking towards where John was sitting alone by the fire.

“That sister of yours is trouble,” he said.

John turned to look at him, “what do you mean?” he asked.

“Have you seen the way the men are around her? You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.”

John shrugged, “that’s just Lou. I mean things have changed since we were kids, she’s grown up, but people have always loved to do things for her, it’s just how she is, people always get caught up in her charm.”

That’s exactly what it was, she was charming. Sure, she was pretty, but her looks were nothing compared to her charm. Maybe when he was a few years younger Arthur would have got caught up in it himself, but thankfully at some point, he must have grown out of being a silly boy caught up in woman’s charms. 

He would still do anything Mary ever asked of him, but she was a special case. She was his own personal charmer. She wasn’t like Louisa, she didn’t charm every man in sight. It was just Arthur who was foolish enough to fall for her charms.

“I guess after all this time I forgot she was like that, or I thought I was just remembering her as more than she was,” John continued, “but now she’s,” he paused, looking for the right words, “she’s all grown up, she’s a woman, you know?”

John had never understood it when they were kids. Their lives weren’t good, they weren’t happy. And when they were alone Louisa had been just like him: disappointed and angry with their lot in life. And yet as soon as they had company, as soon as their father was there or a friend of their fathers, and after that at the orphanage where they were constantly surrounded by people, she changed. Her eyes had a sparkle, there was always a smile on her face, and the way she knew how to talk to people, even at such a young age, was inspiring. John would be lying if he said he hadn’t learned a thing or two about dealing with people from her, which was embarrassing to admit considering she was two years younger than him and had no place teaching him such things.

And now, as an adult, she was much the same as she had been back then. John was speechless when they walked into camp and he introduced her to everyone for the first time, and she somehow managed to own the conversation more than Dutch had. 

Arthur nodded, “she’s certainly something,” he said.

“That she is,” John replied, “anyway, I gotta get some sleep.”

It was definitely getting late, and Arthur was meant to be helping Hosea with some guy out in Emerald Ranch the next morning, so he headed over to his own bed, closing his eyes and trying his best to think of things other than pretty, dark-haired girls. 

\--

Arthur was under the impression he, and he alone, would be helping Hosea with this job. So when he rode into Emerald Ranch and saw Louisa at Hosea’s side talking to the man by the stable there, he wasn’t too pleased.

“What’s she doin’ here?” he asked, interrupting the ongoing conversation.

“Arthur, this is Seamus,” Hosea said, ignoring Arthur’s question and gesturing to the greasy looking man.

“I said, what is she doin’ here?” 

Louisa smiled sweetly, “I was just helping out, getting to know Seamus here, he’s quite the entrepreneur,” she said, looking from Arthur back to Seamus, “he’s going to be our new partner.”

“Prospective partner,” Seamus corrected.

“Oh, come on Seamus,” Hosea interjected, “we want to work with you. We like you.”

“And I like you,” he looked back at Louisa, “ and I do want to work with you,” he said, “just havin’ a hard time with the trust is all. This is a sideline for me, I don’t want my boss findin’ out.”

“We can be subtle,” Louisa said, “how about you let us prove ourselves.”

Arthur scoffed, “prove ourselves?” he asked. Since when had they ever needed to prove themselves. And since when did Hosea let a girl they barely knew talk for them.

“No, it’s a good idea, Arthur,” Hosea said, “we can prove ourselves.”

Seamus sighed, “okay,” he said, “okay, I’ll give you all a shot. Old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from upstate. It’s in their barn. Now you go get that, then we can work together.”

“Who’s old Bob Crawford?” Hosea asked.

“An acquaintance of mine.”

“So you want us to take out your competition?”

“Well he- he’s not just an acquaintance, but a cousin. By marriage. I also want to see if you folks got what it takes. Now you survive that-”

“Where is he?” interrupted Hosea.

“He’s in a farmhouse northwest of here called Carmody Dell. It’s just up the train tracks as you’re heading towards Fort Wallace. There’s also some money in that house, but that’s your business, not mine. But don’t kill nobody, folks know we ain’t intimate no more and they’ll know it was me,” Seamus explained.

“But you’re fine with us robbing your cousin?” Hosea asked.

“By marriage,” Seamus specified, “and yes, I’d love it.”

“You heard the man, let’s go rob his cousin by marriage,” Hosea said, turning to walk towards his horse.

Louisa turned as well, walking towards her horse. It was a white Arabian she called Stella. It was a beautiful horse, Arthur hadn’t seen many horses like that in this area. He wondered to himself how exactly she could have acquired it. Probably convinced a far richer man to buy it for her.

“She ain’t coming,” Arthur said, as he mounted his horse.

“Why not?” she asked, “I did my part to arrange all this, I want to come.”

“I ain’t ridin’ and thievin’ with someone I don’t know,” Arthur replied as the three of them started to trot down the road.

“Hosea,” she turned to the older man, “I’d like to come along and help you boys out with this one, do you have an issue with me being there?”

“Well, I can’t say I do, but if Arthur wishes to do this without you I don’t want to fight him on that.”

“Well that’s quite alright, Mr. Matthews, I’ll fight him myself then,” she leaned forward on her horse to look past Hosea at Arthur, “Mr. Morgan, why don’t you want me riding with you?”

“I don’t trust you enough.” 

“Well you trust my brother, and he would vouch for me,” she replied, “look, we’re on our way now, and I’d like to come, and it makes no sense to send me all the way back to Horseshoe Overlook when I’m here and I can help, so I’m coming, and you can say thank you later for my being gracious enough to help, and that’s that.” 

Hosea laughed, “come on, Arthur, what harm can a little girl like her do?”

“Exactly,” Louisa said, “what harm could a little girl like me possibly do,” she looked at him an eyebrow raised, daring him to keep on fighting. 

He didn’t even want to consider how much harm she could do, but he was sure it was more than either of them knew.

Arthur sighed, “why are we helping this fool anyway?”

“Because he won’t cause us any problems,” Hosea replied, “he’s perfect, a safe spot to fence wagons and coaches, we can make good money on that.”

“I guess you’re right,” Arthur said.

The ride to Carmody Dell wasn’t too much further. The three of them slowed their horses to a stop in the trees outside the trees up a ways from the farm house. Louisa pulled out a rifle, slinging it over her back. 

They walked together towards a large rock outside the farmhouse, crouching behind it to remain out of sight. Arthur grabbed his binoculars and started to look up at the place.

“Anyone around?” Hosea asked.

“Yeah, couple of people, I reckon we can do it now though.”

“Okay,” Hosea said, “how about I go up there and provide a distraction, you sneak in, grab what you can, then steal the stagecoach.”

“Or,” interjected Louisa, “how about I provide the distraction, I’ll play the lost little lamb, Arthur, you can carry on inside the house, and Hosea you can go straight for the stagecoach.”

Hosea nodded, “that sounds like a good plan to me. Arthur?”

Arthur sighed, he couldn’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t work, although he still didn't like taking orders from a girl he barely knew.

“Fine,” he said, “that should work. Give me your rifle though, lost girls usually aren’t armed.”

And she looked back at him with the same expression he’d had just moments beforehand: as though she was trying to find any reason not to agree with his logic. But he was right, so she took the rifle and handed it to Arthur.

“Alright,” Arthur said, taking the rifle, “let’s go.”

He sneaked up to the side of the house, waiting for the right moment to sneak in. He could see Louisa walking towards the house, and she sure did pull off the damsel in distress well. She knocked on the door and he heard her start talking.

“Excuse me, sir. I- I was just riding by your house, and a snake, it just came out of nowhere. My horse bucked me off and now he’s gone and run off lord knows where and, well, my daddy will be so angry if he finds out I’ve lost his horse, is there any way y’all could help me go look for him?”

“Oh, you poor thing,” the young man who answered the door replied, before yelling for his father. The two men took off quickly following Louisa, who continued to talk a mile a minute about how worried she was, how thankful she was for their help, how scared she was. 

Arthur quietly walked into the house, making sure to not make too much noise in case anyone else was there. He made quick work of robbing the place, and when he looked out the window he saw Hosea ready to go on the stagecoach. By the time he walked out of the house, he could hear the father and son returning.

“Boy, what I wouldn’t give to marry a girl like that,” the younger man said.

“Don’t be silly, son, girls like that ain’t for marrying. She’s a pretty one, but she ain’t the sort to make a good wife. You meet another girl like that, you use her for all she’s worth then you marry her sister, you hear me?”

Arthur shook his head, running out to Hosea. They were out of the barn and on the road before the father and son had even noticed they had been there. Louisa was waiting a little way down the road. 

“Nicely done, gentlemen,” she said as Hosea pulled the horses to a stop beside her. Arthur held his hand out to help her up onto the bench seat beside him. The three of them barely fit on the bench, and Louisa didn’t seem shy about squeezing herself in close to Arthur, “how did you make out in the house?” she asked.

“I found some money stashed away,” he said, hesitant to tell Louisa exactly how much he’d found.

“How much?” Hosea asked.

He sighed, “maybe a few hundred.”

“That’s not too bad,” Louisa said.

“Not bad at all,” Hosea agreed.

They rode a little further in silence. Louisa shifted her weight a little bit, and Arthur was sure she’d moved a little closer to him.

“So,” she said, looking up at him, eyes wide. The same expression she’d had on her face the night before when she’d asked for a cigarette, “do you still not trust me, Arthur Morgan?”

“I never said I don’t trust you, Miss. Marston, just said I don’t trust you enough to ride with you, and I can’t say one little job like that was enough to make me trust you much more yet.”

She huffed, “I’ll win you over soon enough, Mr. Morgan, just wait.”

She shifted her weight again, moving enough to reach into her pocket and pull out a cigarette and a match, lighting it and taking a drag before offering it to Arthur.

He accepted it, then asked “I thought you didn’t have any cigarettes?”

“Why would you think that?” she asked.

“Last night, you asked Keiran, Sean, and Javier for a cigarette, and you haven’t been into Valentine since then, so either you had these cigarettes with you last night or you conjured them out of nowhere.”

She laughed, “you’re more observant than I gave you credit for, Mr. Morgan. Or were you just watching me closer than you usually watch the girls around camp?”

He didn’t answer.

“Those men were happy to give me a cigarette of their own, why would I use one that I paid for with my own money when three men wanted to give me one for free?” she explained.

Hosea laughed.

“Taking from those men when you have enough of your own ain’t any better than stealin’,” Arthur replied.

“Oh, come on Arthur, that’s not fair,” Hosea said.

“No, no Mr. Matthews, he’s right, it’s basically stealing. The thing is I’ve always considered it okay to steal from those who deserve to be stolen from, and if those men are so willing to give up what they have just because I smile sweetly and ask nicely, don’t they deserve to be stolen from?”

Hosea laughed again, “I like you, Miss. Marston,” he said.

“You only like her because she plays with words to justify her actions the same way you do, Hosea. All you did was take advantage of men who are supposed to be your family now.”

She shrugged, “if you want me to apologize for taking advantage of people you’re going to be waiting a long time, Mr. Morgan. Taking advantage of people isn’t a crime, it’s a survival skill, and I won’t apologize for it, especially when it’s just over a cigarette. Now, we can keep squabbling or we can get on with what we’re here to do,” she said as they pulled into Emerald Ranch. 

As they neared the stable she hopped off the stagecoach, “Mr. Seamus, so good to see you again. I do hope you find the stagecoach satisfactory.”

Seamus nodded, “nice work, Miss. Louisa.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, I didn’t do a thing, it was all these boys here. You already know Hosea is a capable man, and Arthur, well, he’s coarse but he’s certainly competent.”

Seamus nodded, “here,” he said, handing some money to Hosea, “if you find any other coaches that need selling, I’ll see what I can offer you for them. But discreet, you know?”

And with that Arthur, Hosea, and Louisa set off back to camp.

And that night Arthur watched from beside his tent as Louisa sat by the fire. And somehow, without moving, she managed to talk Sean into bringing her a bowl of stew, Bill into bringing her some whiskey, and once again she complained that she was all out of cigarettes. In an instant, there were four cigarettes being held out ready for her to take. She took one from Javier, and Arthur watched as she pulled a match from her pocket and leaned down, striking it against her boot. And then, as she brought it up to the cigarette between her lips, she looked straight back at Arthur, an eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on her lips.

She was daring him again. Daring him to come over there and say something. Daring him to call her out.

And Arthur looked right back at her, lighting a cigarette of his own, and wondering to himself just how foolish the men at that camp would end up becoming in their attempts to impress her. But at least he found comfort in the fact that, while the other men would no doubt make further fools of themselves yet, he still had the good sense to not end up falling for her like they were.


	4. Helpless

It had been a long day, and Arthur just wanted to go to bed. The night before he had been planning to have an easy day, he’d planned to go hunting and maybe drop into Valentine and pick up some ammo. It had been a long week and he hadn’t planned on getting up to too much.

And then Susan had stopped him while he was walking towards his tent to let him know that Mary had left him a letter.

And somehow he’d wound up riding half way up a mountain to find little Jamie Gillis and save him from a cult, only to end up racing him back down the mountain just to stop him from killing himself. It wasn’t how he’d expected his day to go, but Mary had called and Mary had asked him to help and he was a fool if he believed he’d ever be capable of saying no to that woman. 

The last thing he wanted, when he walked back into camp, was to run straight into Louisa. 

“Tell me about Mary,” she demanded, as he made his way to his tent.

“Excuse me?”

“Mary. Susan said you were going to see her today, she said she’s an old friend of yours, or something more, and I want to hear about her.”

“No,” he replied, curtly.

“No?” she asked. She didn’t like being told no.

“No,” he said again.

“Oh, come on Arthur. I’m bored here, there are no novels to read, I’m tired of watching Abigail and John have the same fight every night, and whatever’s going on with Karen and Sean seems to have come to an end, and I just want to hear a good love story, so tell me about this girl.”

“No,” he said, one more time.

She huffed, glaring up at him, an unmistakable fire in her dark eyes. He’d never seen a woman glare at him with such ferocity, it was almost amusing enough to make up for the day he had had and the way things had been left with Mary.

She turned sharply and started to march away from him. 

“Wait,” he said. She turned around, raising an eyebrow. He’d never met a woman with such control over her eyebrow. Arthur wasn’t usually one to talk about things often. He would write about them, but talking wasn’t his usual outlet. But Louisa wanted to hear a story and for once he almost wanted to talk about it. 

“Bring me a bottle of whiskey and I’ll tell you about Mary.”

Her face lit up, and for a second, just a fleeting moment, he understood why all the other men at the camp were so eager to please her. It felt good knowing he was the cause of that smile. Without a word, she walked over to the big crate of bottles over by Pearson’s wagon and she grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

“This better be a good story,” she said, sitting down on his bed beside him and handing him the bottle of whiskey.

“Don’t get too excited,” he said, “and you ain’t hearin’ the whole thing, I’m just gonna tell you about today.”

She pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he had a swig of whiskey then handed the bottle to her, “I met a cult today and saved a young boy’s life, it’s a better story than you could get from any of those idiots,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the camp.

“Mr. Morgan today Mr. MacGuire and I rode down to a homestead north of Valentine to rob it. When we got there we encountered some strange folk with an odd dialect who spoke with funny accents. We set a barn on fire, shot the lot of them, and walked out of there with close to four hundred dollars. If I wanted to hear an exciting adventure I’d just look back on my own day. I want to hear a love story.”

“You and Sean robbed a homestead?”

Louisa let out a noise that could only be described as bored and impatient, “yes, Mr. Morgan, shocking though it might seem the rest of us don’t just sit around doing nothing while you’re out on your adventures.”

“But why did Sean take you?”

“Maybe next time you go out on one of your adventures you should bring me along, Arthur, I’m quite good with a gun.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, waiting to hear what he had to say, “well, Miss. Marston, I might just take you up on that.”

She smiled, then handed the whiskey bottle back to him, standing up, “I look forward to it,” she replied.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked, “don’t you wanna hear about Mary?”

“I’m bored, Mr. Morgan, you’ve bored me, I’ll just ask Mary-Beth to tell me more about one of her ideas for a novel.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. Somehow he was almost disappointed she no longer wanted to talk to him. It was hard to believe five minutes earlier it had been her trying to convince him to talk.

The next morning Dutch finally insisted that it was time to for Arthur to break Micah out of prison. So Arthur had grabbed his rifle, saddled up his horse, and was about to head out when he remembered his conversation the night before.

“Miss. Louisa,” he said, walking towards where she was sitting by the fire, chatting away with Javier about some pair of boots she’d seen in Valentine that she just adored. 

“Excuse me, Javier,” she said turning to look at Arthur, “can I help you, Mr. Morgan?”

“Well I was plannin’ on ridin’ out to Strawberry, we got a fella stuck in the jail out there, I gotta go collect him.”

“Yes, Mr. Bell, right? Mr. Matthews told me about that predicament.”

“Yeah, Micah. Anyway, I was thinkin’ about what you said last night, about me bringing you along on my next adventure, I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come along.”

She pursed her lips, looking like she was putting far more effort into thinking his offer over than was necessary, “well,” she said, in a troubled tone, “I would very much like to come along and help you, Mr. Morgan, but I did have plans to go hunting with Mr. Escuella today. But Javier,” she turned back to Javier, “I know you to be a very capable hunter, and if Mr. Morgan needs my help today-”

“-I didn’t say I needed your help I said you could come-”

“-if Mr. Morgan needs my help today then it would be quite improper of me to refuse,” she continued, turning back to Arthur, “I’d be happy to join you, I’ll have to wait for another day to go hunting,” she said. 

“Qué pena,” Javier said, “another day, cariño,” and as Louisa stood up to walk away with Arthur, Javier quickly grabbed her hand, kissing it quickly before letting it go.

Louisa smiled down at him, “you’re a gentleman, Mr. Escuella,” she said, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

Louisa was already dressed appropriately for their day. She usually wore jeans and a shirt and today was no different. She wore a white, loose-fitting shirt tucked into high waisted denim pants. And Stella was already saddled up and ready to go. Her white coat was clean (Arthur had noticed Keiran giving Stella extra care and attention, extra oatcakes, all Louisa had to do was bat her eyelashes and mention that Stella had been looking a little dirty), and quickly enough they were on their way.

“Strawberry is just northwest of here,” Arthur said, as they started down the path.

“I know where Strawberry is,” she replied.

“Okay then,” he said, kicking his horse lightly, “let’s go.”

They rode in silence for a few miles before Louisa got bored of the quiet.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“What plan?”

“For when we get to strawberry? Are we going to blow open the jail? Try and talk to the sheriff?”

“I think we’ll try talking first, and dynamite second.”

“Okay, well, sounds like a perfect plan,” she concluded.

They rode in silence a little longer.

“So,” she said, getting bored yet again, “who was the boy?”

“The boy?”

“The boy whose life you saved yesterday.”

Arthur sighed, “Mary’s brother.”

“How did you save him?”

“I stopped him from gettin’ shot.”

“Shot by whom?”

Arthur paused, it wasn’t for him to say but he supposed Louisa would never meet Mary, let alone Jamie, anyway, so it couldn’t hurt to just tell her, “the boy’s been going through some stuff, he thought he wanted to shoot himself, I just made him realize he didn’t.”

“Ah,” she said, considering what he said for a moment, “well aren’t you a good, noble man.”

He snorted, “sure, somethin’ like that.”

“So what’s so special about this Mary anyway?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he replied.

“Well I barely see you give any of the girls around camp a lick of attention, and yet Mary sends a letter and you come running. She must be something quite special.”

Arthur shrugged, “I don’t know if she’s all that special, just the way she makes me feel, that’s what’s special.”

Louisa sighed wistfully, “I don’t think I’ll ever meet a man who ever makes me feel any sort of special way,” she said.

Arthur laughed dryly, “you got every man at camp fallin’ over their feet tryin’ to impress you, and you’re worried you ain’t ever gonna find a man?”

“Well that’s exactly the problem,” she said, “the way they treat me? I ask for that, I know I do, I play those boys like a fiddle when I want to, but,” she sighed, “well, I don’t know, I just feel like any man who falls for my simpering and flirting and helplessness is a man who just isn’t worth my time. I’m not sure I can have any respect at all for a man who scrambles trying to impress me just because I look up at them with wide eyes and tell them how wonderful I think they are, and if I can’t respect them then how can I love them?” she asked.

“So you play those men then judge them for being played?” he asked, incredulously, as though she’d just said the most senseless thing he’d ever heard.

“Exactly,” she replied, as though it made complete sense.

“You are a complicated woman, Miss. Marston,” he said.

She shrugged, “I don’t think it’s complicated at all, Mr. Morgan. I’ve learned that if I tell boys I feel faint when I actually feel fine, they’ll end up feeling like a hero for being there to steady me when I didn’t need steadying at all. If I talk to a boy who’s half as smart as I am, but I pretend to be twice as dumb as he is, then he comes away feeling like the smartest man in the world and I’m the pretty little thing who made him feel that way. And that’s how I get by, that’s how I find my way into having a place to sleep every night and food to eat every day and that’s why I’m going to go back to camp tonight and Mr. Escuella will have bought me a brand new pair of boots just because I looked at him like a helpless little girl and made him feel like he would be my hero if he purchased them for me.”

Arthur considered her words for a moment.

“I think you’d be surprised by how many men out there would appreciate your strength and intelligence if you showed it to them,” he said.

“No, Arthur, I think you’d be surprised to learn how rare it is to meet a man who isn’t scared off by a woman who doesn’t need him.”

Arthur liked to believe he wasn’t the sort of man who would be scared off by such a woman. And yet, the last few times he’d seen Mary had been times when Mary had needed his help. So maybe he was just the same as all the men making fools of themselves for Louisa.

He hoped that Mary wasn’t playing the games that Louisa was playing, that she wasn’t just playing the damsel in distress, and yet he couldn’t deny that Louisa had a point. 

But looking back, Arthur wasn’t entirely sure Louisa was right in all her conclusions about men. Sean and Javier and Keiran and all the other men around camp definitely fell for her flirty act, but Arthur couldn’t think of a single moment when she was more attractive to him than when she was smoking that cigarette a few nights before, daring him to say something, and knowing he wouldn’t. That glimpse of a strong, frighteningly powerful personality was more attractive than any silly, feminine masquerade she might adopt.

Of course, Arthur wasn’t attracted to her. Not at all. Not the way all the other men were. Not when he had Mary on his mind.

But if he was attracted to her, not that he ever would be, but if he was, that fire he saw in her eyes the night before, that’s the side of her he would be attracted to. In fact, Arthur found it absurd that any man would ever prefer to chase a damsel in distress than a woman with an eyebrow raised, and a fire in her eyes that could ignite something in him he had never felt before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a full day in the classroom doing some annual training for work tomorrow, so I don't think I'll be able to do an update tomorrow, but hopefully on tuesday.
> 
> I really hope you're enjoying this fic so far, I'm having a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> Please comment and let me know if there's anything you don't like about it, I'm always happy to see constructive criticism


	5. Mr. Bell

The Strawberry jail was at the north end of the town. As they approached the jail they could hear someone yelling from the side of the jail. Arthur recognized his voice right away, and Louisa didn’t have a hard time guessing it was Micah.

“Let me out of here you maggots!”

Louisa slid off her horse, “Micah?” she asked. 

Arthur nodded, “yeah, that’ll be him.”

“He seems charming,” she replied.

He laughed, “oh just you wait till you see him uncaged,” he said.

“So,” she looked at the jail door, “do you want me to go in there? Sometimes lawmen can be a little more… sympathetic when dealing with a woman.”

“Well, this is a small town, maybe I should take this one,” he replied, “they might not take too kindly to a young lady asking about criminals.”

She glared at him, fiery-eyed, “Mr. Morgan,” she said, “I think you’ll find I can handle those men just fine.”

He tipped his hat, “I’ll wait here then,” he said, holding his arm out, gesturing for her to head towards the jail.

When she walked in she saw that there were three lawmen and none of them looked particularly friendly.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, “I’m looking for a man, I heard he caused a spot of bother in your lovely town, and now you’re holding him in this jail of yours.”

“And what’s a young lady like you doing looking for a man like that?” one of the lawmen, a man sitting at a desk with a sheriffs badge pinned to his shirt, said.

“Well, that’s for me to know,” she replied, “all you need to know is I’m looking for him.”

“We don’t deal with bounty hunters 'round here,” the sheriff said. 

“I never said I was a bounty hunter,” she replied, widening her eyes and biting her lip, but she already knew it was hopeless.

“Look, there're two men we got down there. Now one of them’s an idiot, the others some kind of dumb mick, so maybe them’s your boys. You can look right enough when we hang ‘em.”

She huffed, “fine,” she said, knowing the battle was lost, “I’ll be seeing you, sheriff.” 

“Any luck?” Arthur asked as Louisa walked out of the jail.

“Those were some incredibly unagreeable men,” she said.

“You mean to tell me there are men out there who aren’t entirely bewitched by your charms?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Arthur, it’s unbecoming.”

“No, no, I’m genuinely amazed any man could ever say no to that pretty face of yours,” he said, laying the sarcasm on thick, as they walked down towards the side of the jail where the window Micah had been yelling through was.

“Oh, so you do think I’m pretty,” she replied, one side of her mouth raising slightly as she looked back at him.

He scowled, “shut up,” he replied, as they reached the window. 

“Arthur! Arthur!” Micah shouted.

“Hello old friend,” Arthur said, “had a good time, did you?”

“You gonna get me out of here?”

“I ain’t decided yet.”

“Real funny.”

“Oh I ain’t joking, cowpoke,” Arthur replied, “I heard so much bluster out of your mouth in the last six months, and now I got an opportunity to watch you be silenced.”

“Well you gotta do something,” Micah said, and then finally he looked over at Louisa, “who’s she?”

“Your replacement,” Arthur said.

“You’re a real joker today, ain’t ya Arthur?” Micah replied.

“She’s new to the gang, she offered to come help get you out of this mess, so you’d best be nice to her,” Arthur said.

Micah laughed, “sending women to break men out of jail, what has the world come to?”

Louisa scoffed, “Mr. Bell, if you don’t want my help you can stay here and hang, it makes no difference to me.”

“Oh come on,” Micah said, “Arthur, I’ve always looked up to you-”

“-well that’s your first mistake. Alright, Louisa, you got any ideas for how we’re gonna get this idiot out of here?”

“No,” she said, “no, I do think we should just let him hang.”

“Well, unfortunately, this time I don’t think that’s an option, but I’m sure he will end up in jail again soon enough.”

She sighed, “fine, then I guess we can use that steam donkey to pull the bars off,” she said.

Arthur looked over at the machine she was pointing too. 

“Good plan,” he said, walking over to it and grabbing the hook, “here, stand back,” he said, pulling the lever. The bars came right off and Micah climbed out. Arthur handed him a revolver and immediately Micah turned around and shot the other man locked in the jail, point blank range, right in the middle of the forehead.

The sound of the bars being ripped off and the gunshot had already attracted too much attention. Louisa barely had time to process the man who’s just been shot before she was diving behind some barrels for cover, ready for a shootout.

“What the hell are you doing?” Arthur yelled at Micah.

“He was an O’Driscoll.”

“I should have known you were up to no good.”

The quickest way out of town was just to the north, but Micah was running south, back down to one of the bridges.

“Where is he going?” Louisa shouted, running from one bit of cover to the next to follow Micah.

“No idea,” Arthur said, following her, “you’re a goddamn maniac, Micah,” he shouted, “I should have left you to hang.”

“We’re in it now, Morgan, what do you want to do?”

Unfortunately, neither Arthur nor Louisa could argue that too much. With 20 or so men shooting at them, they couldn’t exactly turn around, say sorry, and have them put Micah back in jail. 

“They got something of mine I ain’t leaving without,” Micah yelled back at them, pushing forward.

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Louisa said, shooting a guy who was barely a few feet away from Micah.

“Keep shootin’” Micah yelled, “we got more coming in.”

Arthur crouched down behind a crate, and he looked over at Louisa while he took a second to reload. She was a force. She was taking down twice as many men as Micah, she was making each shot count, and she was quick. He knew she could shoot from that first night on the train, but that night he hadn’t realized quite how good she was.

They took down the last few men on that street, and Arthur and Louisa watched as Micah ran to a house at the end of the street.

“Skinny!”

“It ain’t skinny Micah, it’s Norman,” a man said, opening the door a crack. Micah pushed into the house, shooting Norman, or Skinny, and disappearing into the house.

“What on earth is he doing?” Louisa asked, “this is crazy, we’ve killed half the damn town.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. This is why I didn’t want to save him, he’s a goddamn menace.”

“But we all have to trust Dutch knows best, right?” Louisa asked. He could hear the sarcasm in her tone.

“We’re not discussing this now,” Arthur replied, as Micah ran out of the house, holding two guns.

More men were coming and Arthur, Louisa, and Micah ran across a bridge to the other side of town. 

“We could have been long gone by now, but no, you had to shoot up the entire town,” Arthur yelled at Micah.

Their horses were waiting at the end of the street. Louisa shot down the last man and the three of them mounted their horses, taking off down the road out of town. A few men on horseback tried to follow them but they made quick work of them.

Eventually, they made it out to a road and the gunfire stopped. 

“That was some good shootin’ Morgan, I gotta hand it to you,” Micah said, “and you’re not half bad either, girl.”

“What the hell was that you pulled back there?” Arthur yelled.

“Got a bit wild alright,” Micah replied.

“Wild? Making a house call in the middle of all that?”

“Ain’t much I care about more than those guns.”

“That’s pretty goddamn clear,” Louisa said, “we could have died, over some guns.”

“Arthur, control your girl, I ain’t gonna be talked down to by a woman.”

Arthur watched as a fire lit inside Louisa.

“Excuse me?” she began, “firstly, Mr. Bell, it would do you well to remember that you would still be in jail right now if it weren’t for me and Mr. Morgan here. And speaking of Mr. Morgan I am no more his girl than I am anyone’s girl, and least of all am I a girl who is going to be patronized by a lowlife, dirty, rotten man like yourself. You disgust me and the thought that if it weren’t for our actions today the world would be a much better place for seeing you hang is a thought that honestly sickens me.”

Micah leaned forward on his horse, staring Louisa right in the eye, “she’s a fiery one, eh Morgan?” he said, continuing to stare her down, “it was Louisa, right?”

She glared back at him, not replying.

“Well, Louisa, I bet you know how to make a man feel real good, hey? I bet you could make a man like me real happy, you just gotta learn your place. I’m thinking when I get back to Dutch’s camp, you and I can start getting to know each other real well. Yeah, I think we could get real well acquainted.”

“That’s enough, Micah,” Arthur stepped in.

“Oh, come on, Morgan. She’s not your girl, right? Why do you care?”

“You’re lucky Dutch has got your back, for some unknown reason,” Arthur said, “and she’s John’s sister, so I’d lay off if I were you.”

“John’s sister,” he repeated, “interesting. Very interesting,” he paused for a second, then finally looked back from Louisa to Arthur, “Arthur, we are family. You and I, we’re brothers, we’re sons of Dutch, you wouldn’t’a let me hang, and I’ve known you long enough to know shootin’ up half a town ain’t exactly a highly uncommon thing for you to do, so how about you get down off that high horse and quit being so god damn righteous. Anyway, I’m gonna head back to my camp round back of Strawberry.”

“You ain’t heading back to Dutch?” Arthur asked.

“No, I’ve been a bad boy, I ain’t seeing Dutch till I can bring him a peace offering. Bye now,” he said, turning back to Louisa, “it was a pleasure meeting you, Miss. Marston.” he licked his lips, smiling a menacing smile, “I’ll be seein’ ya.” And then he turned his horse, giving it a hard kick and taking off back to where he came from.

Louisa felt thoroughly disgusted. 

They started riding back towards Horseshoe Overlook, and Louisa didn’t say a word. He had never seen her so silence. He waited about half an hour, then finally asked “you okay?”

She didn’t respond.

“Hey,” he said, “are you okay?”

She turned to look at him, bit her lip, furrowed her brow, then said “we should have left him to hang.”

Arthur sighed, “you’re probably not wrong. He ain’t all that bad though, just a nuisance.”

“Of course you think that,” she said, “you’ve never had to feel the way he made me feel today.”

“Quit worryin’ so much,” he said, “Micah ain’t gonna do anything, he just likes to talk shit to make people uncomfortable.”

“No, Arthur,” she replied, “men like that start by just talking but it always ends with something more. And he might not be staying with the gang for now, but one day he’s going to come back, and I’m going to have to start sleeping with a knife under my pillow and hoping he doesn’t catch me by surprise, because in a fight he would overpower me every time.”

“Look, you’re overthinking this. Micah ain’t gonna try anythin’, and if he does there’s always gonna be someone there, John or Javier or Sean or whoever, there to stop him. You don’t have anythin’ to worry about.”

Louisa laughed dryly, “you have no idea, do you?” she said.

“No idea of what?”

“Well look at you,” she said, “you’re a mountain of a man, you could fight anyone. You never have to worry about being reliant on other people for protection. Micah decides he wants to fight you, you win. He decides he wants to fight me, I lose.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She had a point.

And then suddenly she started talking again, her demeanor changed, her tone lighter, “anyhow,” she said, “I won’t think about that today, I’ll worry about him tomorrow. We’re almost back at camp, I’m going to have some stew, I’m going to have some whiskey, and I’m going to get some sleep. It’s been a long day, Mr. Morgan. I hope you found my company satisfactory.”

And that was the Louisa he was used to, back again, back to business. 

“I did, Miss. Marston. It would be a pleasure to ride with you again.”

And together they ducked into the trees towards Horseshoe Overlook. Louisa greeted Bill, who was standing on guard in the trees. 

And then they hitched their horses and Louisa walked straight towards the fire. 

“Mr. MacGuire, could you do me a favour and bring me some stew, I’m quite famished,” he heard her say, as he started to walk towards Dutch’s tent to update him on Micah.

And as he walked across the camp he glanced over towards Louisa’s bed. And sure enough, right there at the foot of the bed was a pair of boots, just like the ones she’d been describing to Javier that morning. 

And mostly he felt like rolling his eyes. Manipulating his friends into giving her cigarettes or bringing her food was one thing, but a pair of boots? Her tastes were getting more and more expensive and who could say what she would be convincing the boys to do for her next. But partly he couldn’t help but feel admiration. Louisa Marston wasn’t just a survivor. She was thriving. She was right, he could beat up any guy who tried to fight him, and that was his strength. And her strength was her smile and her eyes and her force and her vitality, and he feared she was making him weaker by the day.


End file.
